As Fickle As Love Is
by Sandy Bubbles
Summary: My first go at writing fanfiction plz be nice! JuliaJin pairing


1 Author's Notes: First time writing a Tekken fanfiction here! Plz tell me wot u guys think so I know whether or not to add another chapter!  
  
2 I do not own Tekken or any characters, Namco does and all that…!  
  
3  
  
4 As Fickle as Love Is  
  
Revisiting  
  
The devil grinned from within.  
  
Jin Kazama felt its evil glow and flinched, shifting uneasily, while hoping his body would not succumb to letting the devil out to "play".  
  
He continued to walk down the bustling main streets of Tokyo, taking in everything, which used to be his home.  
  
He recognised simply every sight that befell his eyes, but did not feel the swell of his heart which one usually does when returning to a dear childhood place or place where a great deal of time was spent growing up.  
  
Jin shook his head at the irony. He had sure done a lot of "growing up" here - living with his twisted old Grandfather and his accursed Mishima Zaibatsu – finding out about his roots, Kazuya, this damn devil gene inside him...he felt his fist clench in anger. How he hated to be reminded of his dark past, after all, all there was now was the future...and finding Her.  
  
MISHIMA, the cursed name cut through his thoughts. It was another word for evil. Jin vowed to himself he was going to rid himself of that evil no matter what it took.  
  
After landing from the flight from Australia, a place where he had resided to recover from the Mishima Empire, his grandfather and mostly himself, he was now incredibly exhausted.  
  
He could not just trundle back through the doors of the Mishima Mansion expecting back his room for the night – he'd most probably end up with a hole shot straight through his skull again. Jin winced and grew angry at the mere thought. The devil stirred within.  
  
"I may never see him again. It's hopeless to dream of such a thing now," Julia Chang sighed, wiping away stray tears, as she walked along a deserted strip of sandy beach. It was late and the moon cast a silky yet eerie glow upon her surroundings.  
  
Her face crestfallen, her heart in pieces and her soul empty, she simply stood. She glanced out to the ocean, wrapping her arms around herself as her heart longed for Him.  
  
A shadow in the distance caught her attention. She turned around and squinted – she could just make out the outline of . . . she gasped. It couldn't be! Jin?!?  
  
Jin looked down on her with those soulful brown eyes, which held locked sorrow down in their deep depths.  
  
"Jin," Julia barely whispered, having to choke out her words, her hand reaching out to touch his face.  
  
He suddenly jerked away from her, tearing their intense gaze. Startled, Julia blinked and tried to make him look at her, "Jin…"  
  
He turned back round to her and held out his hands. They were dripping with blood. Hearing alarm bells go off in her head, Julia could only stare in horror at his blood-covered hands.  
  
"I didn't mean to do it…it wasn't my fault," Jin began shakily.  
  
Julia took a few steps back, trying to keep calm. She screamed as Jin grabbed her shirt desperately, "I didn't mean to kill her! She was such a young girl – it wasn't my fault!" he began to sob uncontrollably.  
  
Julia trembled as Jin held onto her. Half of her wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him how much she had longed to find him – how much she had missed him when he had left her life and never returned since the last tournament, but the other half was stopping her, telling her that he had just killed an innocent young girl.  
  
Suddenly, Jin dropped his hold on her shirt and fell back onto the sand away from her whilst covering his face.  
  
"Jin," Julia reached out to touch his trembling back.  
  
"Leave," Jin snarled.  
  
Julia's eyes widened. "W-what?"  
  
"NOW!" He bellowed, turning back to her – his face deformed – a third glowing red eye stared crudely at her and strange black markings covered his face. She screamed for her life as he lunged at her...  
  
Startled and gasping for air, Julia woke and found herself sitting upright in her bed, beads of cold sweat had broken out and decorated her forehead and neck.  
  
Julia knew what her dream meant. She had been having similar ones recently. "Jin's alive and he's here, in the city," she whispered.  
  
Ling Xiaoyu glanced over her shoulder and looked over the e–mail once again. She had lost count of the amount of times she had read it, she had practically memorised every word, but still insisted on reading it to herself every five minutes to get it clear in her head because by now, she was utterly confused.  
  
"Well, here's fact number one: I've figured its Jin who sent this. Fact number two: I'm in trouble. Fact number three: ????" Xiaoyu banged her head against the desk in desperation, "I don't have enough facts!" she wailed.  
  
The e-mail from "Jin" read that she was in trouble and that she should stay away from the tournament to avoid getting hurt. It also warned her of enemies old and new. Whatever THAT was supposed to mean. Xiaoyu rolled her eyes. Jin could be so melodramatic at times!!  
  
Xiaoyu wished there was someway to talk to Jin but it was impossible since no one had seen or heard from him since the last tournament. He had literally disappeared to the ends of the Earth.  
  
She had developed a crush on Jin when she had last seen him – after all, she had even attended the same High School as him, Mishima Industrial High - but that crush hadn't lasted long, not until she had met Hwoarang in the last tournament. But she had even lost Hwoarang when he had returned to the Korean Military back in his homeland. He had just upped and left, minus an explanation . . . Xiaoyu pushed it to the back of her mind as she could feel feelings of revisited hurt and anger beginning to well up.  
  
Jin was one of her closest friends and she hoped to God that he was okay. Entering the Fourth Iron Fist Tournament had seemed like the only way she could find out what was going on. So, here she was – in Tokyo, in her hotel room looking through e-mails on her laptop.  
  
I only hope I know what I'm doing entering this tournament again, Xiaoyu thought grimly to herself.  
  
Hwoarang grinned to himself as he imagined the looks on his idiotic commanding officers' faces as they searched his room and found him missing.  
  
It was so easy, he laughed silently. The Fourth Iron Fist Tournament had seemed like a blessing in disguise – it was a chance to escape that hellhole of an army base, to seek revenge on Jin Kazama (it wouldn't end in a draw this time) and to explain everything to Xiaoyu. Xiaoyu…  
  
Well, here he was. Back in Tokyo once again. What was he to do first? He couldn't face Xiaoyu just yet and he hadn't a clue where Kazama was.  
  
He sighed. There were just a couple of days left until the tournament started and he could claim his victory and the keys to the entire Mishima Zaibatsu.  
  
They're fools for giving the whole damn Empire to the winner, he thought then grinned, oh well. All the more for me...  
  
He knew full well that Heihachi had posted his whole company for the tournament prize on every single billboard, poster, magazine and TV commercial so as to lure in his son Kazuya and grandson Jin. All the rest of the competitors were just there for "fun" and "sport."  
  
He stopped and hopped off his motorbike. At least he was clear on one thing – he needed a place to stay while he was here. 


End file.
